when your button goes flying
by Imperial Mint
Summary: He should be enjoying the food and integrating with the rest of the table. Instead, Credence was watching Graves at the high table. Who could blame him when Graves was dressed like that?


Big, big, big thank you to lunarshores as usual for the handholding and betaing! If you want to see the prompt that inspired this and some visuals please head to my AO3 account.

Tags: Clothed Sex, Fashion & Couture, Rimming, 69 (Sex Position), Insecurity, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot

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It wasn't Credence's idea to come to the gala. He'd actually been very opposed to it, as opposed as he dared to be when living on the kindness of others. Which is to say he'd looked down after Tina asked him politely, brow furrowed, and had shaken his head. Queenie had shifted on the other side of the room, but she'd promised him (at Credence's request) not to share what she heard in his head to anyone but him. She hadn't been happy, Credence hadn't been happy, and Tina really hadn't been happy. None of them wanted to go to the gala, yet here they all were.

Tina and Queenie looked beautiful. Their dresses shimmered, and Credence had felt his stomach drop when he'd first seen them. His first thought had been how colorful the dresses were—a deep blue for Tina and bright pink for Queenie – and how terribly Ma would have talked about them. Beauty had been a sin for most of Credence's life, and he was only just learning now that he could accept it.

Their dresses weren't the most elaborate by far, but Credence personally thought Tina and Queenie were the most beautiful women at the gala. From the moment they'd stepped inside the hall, Credence reckoned they'd both started shining. They'd relaxed the moment their coats had been taken, allowed – just for one night – to enjoy themselves with no strings attached.

It was the first time Credence has ever been to a gathering this large or fancy. He felt out of place, despite the clothes Queenie made for him. The waistcoat was dark with flowers embroidered across it, and it was the nicest gift Credence had ever received. He'd almost cried when Queenie had presented it to him, but she'd just laughed and told him stories until he'd been able to accept the clothes. He certainly looked the part now, and he was thankful for Queenie's charity, but he was still aware that he didn't belong here.

Nevermind that he'd been assisting various MACUSA departments ever since President Picquery put him on probation. Credence didn't know what he wanted to do when she decided his probation was up, but he was content helping file, organise, make refreshments, etc. He knew he'd practically slid into one of the most envied internships in the wizarding world, but President Picquery had made it clear he was to be kept under surveillance, and the work just fell Credence's way. He could, and most importantly would, be helpful.

Still, it was one thing to undertake small jobs across the MACUSA, and another thing entirely to fit in at the end of year gala. Credence still felt like the obscurus who destroyed a large portion of New York more than anything else, even though he knew that hardly came to anyone's mind anymore.

"Have a drink," Queenie said gently, three glasses of champagne floating through the air at the flick of her wand. Credence took one of them, trying not to wrinkle his nose as he took a sip.

"Everyone looks so different dressed up," Tina observed, pointing out a few people Credence knew. The difference varied (some people saw work as a fashion challenge and others would spend the day in sleepwear if they could, Credence knew), but it was amazing to see everyone smartly dressed. Credence wondered if anyone was looking his way, commenting on how nicely he cleaned up. He doubted it.

"At least we don't have to sit through hundreds of speeches," Queenie said, patting Credence's arm. "Last year dragged on and on. You're lucky not to have to go through that."

"We have Mr. Graves to thank for that," Tina commented, looking at Credence with a wide smile. Credence looked away, biting the inside of his cheek to try and control the swirling in his stomach he got whenever he thought of Graves. He scanned the room, but he couldn't see Graves anywhere. Perhaps he had decided against coming altogether.

"We have Mr. Graves to thank for a lot of things," Credence said quietly, and Queenie linked her arm through his, both sisters smiling and sipping their drinks.

They toured the hall for a while, engaging in small talk with people Credence barely recognised and a few longer conversations with people he knew. Everyone was polite, complimentary towards their trio, and Credence felt as if his cheeks were burning with the amount of smiling he was doing.

The hall quieted as Seraphina Piquery strode in, dress flowing behind her. She was beautiful, terrifyingly so, and a murmur passed through the room when she smiled, greeting the nearest group of people to her. The pause in the room shifts, and everyone turns back to what they were doing, Queenie launching back into gossiping about the latest scandal she's heard. It draws a flushed laugh from Credence as Tina's eyebrows creep higher up her brows. Queenie was about to finish her story when the hall quieted once again, and Credence looked to where President Piquery was standing, expecting the silence to be related to her.

President Piquery's attention was elsewhere, however. Her lips were slightly parted, curved in a tiny smirk. Credence followed her gaze, and understood instantly the hush of the room. He should have guessed, really, for there was only one other person who could command the attention of the entire room aside from the President.

Percival Graves stood, one hand in his pants pocket and the other accepting a delicate champagne flute. Credence watched his fingers curl around the glass stem, signet ring catching the light, and he swallowed thickly.

"I don't think I've ever seen him in that color before," Tina murmured, face impassive. Her eyes were fixed on Graves though, and while the room in general was recovering and returning to their conversations, Credence's little group were still focused on Graves.

"I helped him," Queenie admitted, and Credence glanced at her. She looked satisfied, as if all her efforts had paid off well. Credence couldn't disagree with that.

Graves was dressed in a deep red suit and black waistcoat. As Tina said, it wasn't his usual color, but Credence had always thought Graves would look good in anything, and this furthered that theory. The biggest change, however, was the pair of delicate, circular-lense glasses perched upon his nose. Credence had never seen Graves in glasses, and he couldn't help the attraction that flowed through him when Graves met his eyes, tilting his head and stepping forward through the crowd.

Graves carved a path towards, them, politely nodding to others but not breaking stride. He had joined them in moments, hand slipping from his pants pocket to brush against Credence's arm. It lingered there as he greeted Tina and Queenie, a kiss on the cheek for both, and when he had finished greeting them, the hand slipped to Credence's back, pressing down in greeting before he removed it entirely. The loss left Credence bare, as it always did, but Graves pressed in close to their small circle, close enough that Credence could feel the warmth of his shoulder against his.

"You look nice, Mr. Graves," Tina said, and Graves nodded.

"We have your sister to thank for that," Graves said, and Queenie waved a hand.

"Hardly," she commented. "Between you and Credence, I might as well start a small business on the side. You've given me enough practice, and now that my designs are a hit at the MACUSA party they'll be banging down the door to get their hands on something I made."

Credence wasn't sure if she was joking or not. Queenie had the skill and dedication to turn her hobby into a career, and he'd be happy for her if she did. Graves gave a snort of laughter, then stiffened as someone called his name.

"Duty calls," he muttered, tension in his shoulders as Credence watched him steel himself. Even a party such as this was a battlefield in a way. "Madame President has requested I dine at the high table, but I'll find you after the meal," Graves said quietly, for Credence's ears alone, and he felt a flush rise to his cheeks. He met Grave's eyes and nodded, and Graves left with a nod, drawing as many following eyes in his wake as President Piquery did.

The food was extraordinary, and Credence had to fight old habits to enjoy it. He still wasn't used to the lavish banquets he was often invited to at the Goldstein's apartment, and this dinner was on a completely different scale. Credence didn't think he'd seen that much food in his entire life, and it was hard to think of those outside who were going hungry.

"Don't worry sweetie," Queenie said, seated at his right hand side. Tina was on the other side of their circular table, in deep discussion with someone on her department. "We've made sure that any leftovers will be distributed as donations to those in need. I think President Piquery took inspiration from you."

Credence doubted that a lot. If anything, President Piquery still felt guilty for almost ordering his execution – though he couldn't blame her for that. Credence knew enough now that if he'd been in her position then, he'd have done the same thing, surely. He hoped he never had to make such a decision.

His gaze wandered as the first course was cleared, plates levitating neatly upward. Even a few days ago the sight would have captivated Credence, as he still viewed each act of magic as something only just short of a miracle, but he was fascinated by something else entirely.

Graves was just two tables away, beside President Piquery at the long table at the back of the dining hall. He was close enough that Credence could see the tired circles under his eyes and the crease of his brow, but far enough that he had no idea what topic of conversation ailed him. Even if he could have heard it, Credence wouldn't be listening. His concentration was entirely on the way Grave's waistcoat buttons strained against the fabric as he lounged back in his chair, fingers threaded together on the table.

Credence swallowed thickly, barely noting the next course come out. His eyes wandered across Grave's broad chest, fabric hugging him tightly, as he turned. He seemed to be cutting someone down, someone further down the table, and Credence watched in delight as he raised his arm, gesturing to enforce his point. His jacket had been abandoned earlier, and Grave's shirt fit snugly, the bulge of his bicep clear as he moved.

"Eat your food before it gets cold, sweetie," Queenie advised with a wink, and Credence reddened, looking down to his plate. Queenie patted his hand delicately, tilting her head in Graves' direction.

"I can understand it though," she said, and Credence shook his head, preferring his thoughts not to be spoken aloud. "I may have fitted his outfit a bit tighter than strictly one should, but Mr. Graves didn't comment on it when he tried it on."

Credence looked up at the high table, watching as Graves shook his head, hand reaching up to press against his temples. Usually that gesture was followed by Graves running his hand through his hair in frustration, but he seemed to be able to draw himself short. It would have been a shame too, for his hair, grown out at the sides to match the top, was styled perfectly. There was only one way Credence wanted to ruin the fall of his hair.

Managing to get through one course more without looking up (and if he hurried through it, Queenie was too polite to comment and Credence would never admit to it), Credence allowed himself to watch Graves again. He was eating this time, seemingly turned his attention away from whatever idiot he'd been arguing with. He ate neatly, systematically even, as if he held himself with tight control. Credence understood that, for he too knew the sting of starvation. His hands were tight around the cutlery, but there was a beauty in the way he speared his food with his fork.

Credence bit the inside of his cheek as Graves rose the fork to his mouth, teeth flashing for a moment as he bit down on the morsel of food. His tongue darted out to lick his bottom lip clean, and Credence looked away then, mentally apologising to Queenie. She was talking to the elderly witch the other side of her, but one hand reached out, patting Credence's arm. It was her way of telling him that it was okay, that his thoughts were his own, and she wouldn't judge.

Queenie really was a beautiful person.

Graves had finished the next time Credence looked, halfway through sipping a glass of water. He choked when he met Grave's eyes, water slopping down his chin and onto the napkin over his thighs. He wiped his face hurriedly, eyes darting around to see if anyone else had noticed.

Graves was still watching him when Credence looked back, and the difference between then and before was startlingly obvious. He looked more relaxed, amused even, and while he wasn't smiling, there was a softness in his eyes. Perhaps it was the glasses, or the way his clothing bunched up when he moved forwards, elbows resting on the table without a care, as if Graves could inch closer to Credence limb by limb.

In return, Credence offered a small smile, hoping Graves caught the meaning. His eyes slid down, lingering on the buttons of Graves' chest, and his smile widened slightly.

It wasn't often that Credence wished for a meal to hurry up, but dessert was one course he wished would breeze by. Queenie simply seemed amused by Credence's urgency, and she began telling Credence more gossip, harmless stories that no one would truly mind plucked from their head. It wasn't as if Credence would tell anyone else, anyway.

When the last plate was levitated away and the last coffee was drunk, the guests started filtering back out to the main hall. Credence lingered at the table, aware of Graves taking his own time, waiting for his own table to clear, making an effort to push as many chairs in as he could, for lack of anything else to do. He didn't need to wait long, and he sensed Graves before he looked up.

"Queenie and Tina wish you a good night," Credence said, and he saw the flicker of surprise in Graves' eyes before he smiled.

"I shall thank them in the morning," Graves said, and his hand found its way to Credence's lower back, broad hand splayed across his spine, even though there was no reason for it. They were almost entirely alone, and the few stragglers left were paying no attention to them whatsoever.

That didn't stop the burning heat rolling through Credence, originating where Graves' hand lay.

"Let's go home," Credence said, feeling bold. He was rewarded by Graves slipping his hand across his hip, pulling Credence into his side. His breath hitched in a way that had nothing to do with Graves apparating them.

The apartment was dark when they landed, but a whispered word from Graves' lips had dim light filling the room. They'd landed in the hallway outside the bedroom, and Graves let go of Credence to position himself with his back to the wall. Credence watched him, waiting for a signal, heart hammering in his chest.

Graves looked at him, eyes warm behind his glasses. He looked softer with the glasses, and Credence reached up without thinking too much, stroking Graves' cheek with his thumb.

"I didn't know you wore glasses," he commented softly, breath hitching when Graves' hand curled against his hip, pulling him close. Credence stepped between his legs, hands resting against the firm muscle of Graves' chest, fingers tracing the fabric gently.

"I don't need them," Graves said, humor lacing his words. "I wanted to look nice. For you," he said, the words a little stunted. He was embarrassed, Credence could tell, judging by the way he was avoiding Credence's gaze. His hands pressed tighter at Credence's side, closing the space between them until Graves' thighs were closed around Credence's legs, holding them together.

"You wanted to look nice for me?" Credence asked, unable to hide some of his shock. No one had ever wanted to look nice for him before, and to think that Graves had done this all for him was remarkable. There hadn't been one person tonight who hadn't, however briefly, wanted to be the one on Graves' arm.

"Of course," Graves murmured, voice low. His hand drifted upwards, stroking lazy circles between Credence's shoulder blades. "I asked Queenie to give us matching outfits too," he said with a smirk, and Credence looked down hurriedly, the dim light of the hallway just letting him pick out the pattern of their waistcoats. It was identical, save for the color scheme, and a thrill passed through him.

Credence doubted than anyone had been looking at him much that night, especially with Graves and President Piquery commanding the attention of the hall, but if they had, they would have seen more than just matching waistcoats. They would have seen public acknowledgement of their relationship, and while neither of them made it a secret, Credence knew Graves was still received attention he didn't want, despite making it clear he was disinterested and spoken for.

"I should have told you," Graves says apologetically, not that Credence minded. Small surprises like that were nothing Credence would be upset over. He liked them. He'd never had nice surprises before, and he knew Graves wouldn't do anything to harm him. "I wanted to show you off," Graves said, and Credence pressed his fingertips into Grave's chest, snorting lightly.

"That's very kind of you to say," he says, eyes tracing the dip of Graves' upper lip.

"You gained many more admirers tonight," Graves says, and Credence looks up at him sharply. It was a ridiculous thought, but Graves wasn't joking.

"I wanted them to know you were mine," Graves said gently, his words almost a plea. "Sometimes I see you, and I wonder what I'm doing. You…" Graves broke off, and Credence felt panic burst through him. His hands abandoned Graves' chest, reaching up to cup his jaw, smoothing into his hair. He held Graves' head, dragging up every inch of reserve he had in him to speak. Credence would never be a confident person, but for Graves he would always try his hardest.

"Don't," Credence said, his words almost a plea. "You're everything to me."

Graves' lips twitched, and he looked down, drawing in a sharp breath. Credence's fingers curled against the back of Graves' head, and his heart jolted as Graves leant forward, pressing a small kiss to the corner of his mouth. His head settled against Credence's, temple to temple, and Graves sighed.

"I worry I'll lose you one day," he said, and Credence felt the sharp sting of anger hit his belly. Graved pulled back, his glasses slightly askew, and shook his head just a touch, as if he sensed what Credence thought. Perhaps he did. Graves had always been able to read Credence no matter what.

"I don't want to hold you back," Graves explained, and Credence ducked his head. "Promise me you'll never let me do that."

Credence wanted to argue that he never could, that he would always be beside Graves until they day one of them died. He loved Graves with all of his heart, and he knew nothing could ever change that. But that wasn't what Graves needed to hear right now. Credence knew such a day would never come, but Graves needed to know he'd never stand in Credence's way.

"I promise," Credence whispered, fingers pressing against the thin frames of Graves' glasses, straightening them. "I promise, I promise, I promise," he chanted, and Graves tilted his head back slightly, a smile curling his lips. There, Credence thought. That was much better.

Graves' hand came up to rest behind Credence's ear, and he pulled Credence in for a slow kiss. Credence bowed his neck, sucking in air as Graves' lips pressed against his, and the fire he'd felt from seeing Graves at the gala rushed back in one swoop. They parted for a moment, Credence taking a shaky breath and eyes falling to Grave's lips, before he moved forwards, hands toying with the buttons at the top of Grave's waistcoat.

"You don't know what you do to me," Graves said, voice low and husky. Credence licked his lips, eyes half-lidded as he met Grave's gaze.

"I know," he commented, far more casually than he would ever dare usually, "and I never want to stop doing those things."

Graves smiled at that, teeth white and eyes bright as he tugged Credence along the hallway, slipping inside the bedroom door. Again he waved his hand, dim, warm light filling the room, but he didn't pause in pulling Credence to the bed.

Graves was first down, on his back, and Credence half-fell on top of him. Graves laughed as Credence sprawled across the bed, one arm by Graves' head and the other between them, and Credence couldn't help but smile. He lay there for a moment, Graves running a hand over the nape of his neck silently, before he propped himself up, elbows either side of Grave's chest.

"I think you should keep the clothes and the glasses on," Credence said contemplatively, tilting his head to the warm palm that pressed against his cheek. He kissed Graves' fingers as they brushed his lips, wanting to litter every inch of Graves' body with his mouth. "You wanted to look good for me," Credence risked, the words flowing from him with a little more shame than usual. Even after so long, he wasn't used to asking for the things he wanted.

"Of course," Graves murmured back instantly. He'd never denied Credence anything he wanted in the bedroom thus far, and anticipation flowed through Credence as Graves fingers caressed his bottom lip.

"Come here," Graved ordered, and Credence shot up like a bullet, kissing Graves deeply. He opened his mouth, sighing, and Graves leant in further, tongue curling slowly and lips soft. He was making a silent promise in his kiss, one that brought the gooseflesh to the surface of Credence's skin.

"You," Graves said, pulling back enough just to get the word out," are beautiful," he continued, syllables peppered with small kisses, fire sparking with each word. Credence shifted, gasping as his hips ground down, feeling the hardness of Graves under his thigh.

"Yes," Credence muttered, one hand shifting to the shirt Graves wore, smoothing over the crumpled lines of fabric until he met the zipper of Graves' pants. He was hard, and Credence kissed Graves as he slid his cock out gently, shifting their position until his thighs were either side of it. Graves pushed himself up, reaching forward to kiss Credence, and Credence leant in eagerly, clenching his thighs just enough to catch Graves' cock between his legs.

"Look at you," Graves said, eyes half-lidded behind his glasses. He threw his head back as Credence ran the pad of his thumb over the tip of his cock, and Credence followed him back, leaning over Graves, seeking out his kiss.

He moved slowly, catching Graves' bottom lip first. Graves opened his mouth, and Credence's teeth scraped against his lips. His tongue followed, slipping into Grave's mouth, and he smiled as one of Graves' hands moved to the back of his head, fingers curling around his hair and pulling ever so slightly. It sent waves of delight through Credence, and he pulled back, one hand resting against each of Graves' cheeks.

He didn't speak, didn't need to. Graves tilted his head into Credence's left hand, his hands against Credence's hips. He kissed the fingertips closest to him, warm eyes gazing up at Credence. There was love and lust in his gaze, and Credence felt a flush spread over his cheeks.

"Turn around," Graves ordered softly, and Credence obliged, fingers slipping over the buttons of his waistcoat.

There was a vulnerability he enjoyed when he was naked with Graves. Graves was always kind to him, even when Credence wanted him to be rough. He would always oblige, with a smile and a kiss, as if what Credence wanted was all he'd ever wished for, and he was always kind, even when Credence stuttered out his darkest fantasies. Graves would give Credence the world if he asked for it, Credence was sure. He hadn't much to offer in return, but he could give Graves all of his love. Credence had never thought his love would amount to much when he was younger, but Graves treasured it, and so it had to be worth something wonderful.

Credence threw his clothes to the side, moving for the button on his pants. He frowned, trying to figure out the best way to remove his pants without leaving Graves, but he needn't have bothered. Graves' hand slid up his thigh, Credence shuddered at the touch, and his pants were vanished with the light press of Graves' fingers and a whispered spell.

"I hope they don't reappear in the garden like last time," Credence said, biting the inside of his cheek as Graves traced small circles on the juncture of his hip and thigh. He couldn't stop himself shifting, their cocks brushing together, and the contact seemed to snap Graves into action.

He manhandled Credence until he was turned around entirely, curled over Graves head-to-toe. His hand grasped at Grave's cock, pressing it against the side of his face, and his mouth fell open as Graves continued his slow circles, fingertips inching towards the top of his thighs.

One hand shifted, pulling Credence closer, until his face was against Credence's skin. There was a moment where Credence felt panic bloom in him (he was dirty, he didn't deserve this kindness, someone like Graves didn't deserve to be burdened with someone like Credence), but at the first sweep of Graves' tongue, the panic dimmed, something stronger and more exciting taking its place.

Graves wouldn't do this for just anyone, and while Credence was still overcoming his past, it was easier to accept the truth nowadays. Graves wanted him, and that was that.

Credence sighed, throwing his head back. Graves' hand was steady at his hip, holding him in place for a moment, and then his mouth lowered once more, kisses against the back of Credence's thighs, drawing a line back upwards.

With one hand clutching the sheets, Credence wet his lips, closing his eyes as his cock brushed the silk fabric of Graves' shirt. His arm faltered, and he dipped forwards, Graves taking the opportunity to pull him flush to his face, thumb pressing against him as the flat of his tongue pressed between Credence's cheeks. His breath faltered, and Credence ducked his head, nose brushing against Graves' cock. He was rewarded by Graves curling his tongue, and Credence smiled, tilting his hips for better access.

Heat flowed through him, setting every nerve on fire as Graves spread him open. He could feel the pad of Graves's thumb pressing into him too, his other arm holding Credence against him, keeping him steady, and while Credence could shift his hips slightly, his movement was limited. He could turn his attention to the neglected cock before him, however, and Credence curled his palm around the base, fingers stroking Graves' balls as he sucked the tip.

Graves' reaction was instantaneous. Credence felt the ripple flow through his body, culminating in his tongue leaving Credence's hole and the thump of the mattress as Graves let his head fall back. Credence smiled, opening his mouth wider and taking the entire head of Graves's cock down. His mouth filled with the musky taste of Graves, and Credence took as much into his mouth as he could, letting Graves make shallow thrusts, the head of his cock just scraping the back of his throat.

It was too much after a moment, and Credence pulled up, choking slightly. He wiped his mouth, eyes fluttering closed as Graves' tongue returned to him, hands spreading him open. It was too good, and Credence wanted to repay the favor.

He was able to fit more of Graves' cock in his mouth this time, and he moaned as his lips stretched wide. Credence pulled back with a groan as Graves slid two slick fingers in him, the quiet murmur of the lubricant spell whispered against his inner thigh.

"Oh Credence," Graves whispered, voice reverent. And as much as Credence wanted to slide his lips around Graves' cock, he needed to look at his face more. He turned, breath catching at Graves' wet, red lips and his askew glasses, one half tilted across his forehead.

Graves licked his lips, and Credence jerked his head.

"I want you," he said, eyes darting down to Graves' hands. He looked back up, and Graves was on the move already, pushing Credence back and settling himself between his thighs. His clothes were soft against Credence's skin, expensive fabric pressing against his cock, and he ran a hand across Graves' chest, pulling at the waistcoat.

"You're mine," Credence said, his chest close to bursting with how much need and love he had inside of himself. "All mine."

Graves nodded, catching Credence's hand with his own and bringing it to his lips. He slipped a finger inside of his mouth, tongue curling against the digit as his other hand lowered. He didn't even have to speak the lubricant charm this time, and Credence pulled his fingers free of Graves' mouth in favor of pulling him down, catching his lips between his teeth as Graves entered him.

They moved slowly at first, Graves' eyes seeking his, ready to stop at the tiniest notion that Credence was uncomfortable. He always cared so, so much. It hurt Credence to think anyone thought of Graves as anything but the wonderful man he was.

"I'm good," Credence urged, shifting his hips back, pressing against Graves and taking him in deeply. "I'm good," he assured, and Graves surged forwards with a grunt, catching Credence in a long kiss as he moved faster.

Graves' mouth pressed to Credence's neck, wet kisses trailing along his jugular. His arms strained as he moved, and Credence wrapped his arms tighter around Graves, breath hitching with every thrust. There was a sudden sound as Graves shifted forward, and Credence saw the tip of the waistcoat slip open, the top couple of buttons lost forever. He fought not to smile in satisfaction, and instead focused on the urging heat inside of him, pleasure curling tightly.

His head fell back, hands clutching at Graves shoulders, the fabric bunching at his touch. Graves moved upwards, towering above Credence, head tilted to the side as he caught one of Credence's hands, threading their fingers as he moved. A soft smile crossed his lips, and then his brow furrowed, and Credence didn't think he'd seen a more intricate expression on Graves' face before.

"Graves," he said hurriedly, and Grave's eyes opened slowly, his hand squeezing Credence's. He wanted to say more, but a moan escaped his throat instead, and Credence pulled Graves down, mouth seeking his.

"Please, please, please," Credence said against his lips, eyes searching Grave's face as they moved. He tightened his hold, wanting nothing more than to stay here with Graves for all of eternity. He kissed Grave's cheek, and Graves huffed against his mouth, moaning into their next kiss and stiffening as he came.

They lay there for a moment, Graves rocking slowly against Credence as they kissed. It was sloppy, slow, and Credence sighed into it. And then Graves was gone, moving down until he had Credence's legs over his shoulders and was burrowed between Credence's cheeks.

"Ah," Credence gasped, eyes rolling back as Graves teased him. One hand cupped his balls, the other spread him open, and Grave's tongue traced its way upwards, cleaning Credence of his come.

He was delicate, alternating between kissing Credence's skin, running his tongue over his cock, and pressing into Credence. It was so good, and Credence's toes curled as Graves entered him with a noise of satisfaction. Credence looked down when he pulled back, and Graves had come marking his lower lips, eyes flickering up to meet Credence's. It was too much to see Graves's outfit ruined so thoroughly, marked with their lovemaking, smears on the glasses and wrinkles in the fabric.

Credence thought he looked a hundredfold better like this than in in any of his crisp suits.

He came with a gasp, Grave's tongue up his ass and hand on his cock. His back arched, and Graves pressed kisses up against the base of his cock, come streaking through his hair. Any embarrassment Credence might have felt was overshadowed with pleasure and satisfaction. He heard Graves hum, tongue gently pressing against the head of Credence's cock, and he jerked, knees drawing up then falling flat onto the bed.

There was the quick mumble of a cleaning charm, the tingle of it against Credence's skin, and then Graves was kissing his hipbone, fingers kneading the muscle of Credence's thigh. He was patient, content to carry on as Credence floated.

As Credence came back to himself, he looked down, attention shifting to watch Graves. He was watching Credence with the same intensity he had been before Credence came, glasses resting on the top of his head now, holding strands of hair back from his eyes. Credence sat up slightly, wrapping his legs around Grave's shoulders.

"You're beautiful," Graves said, hand reaching to curl against Credence's jaw, thumb pressing against the corner of his mouth. Credence smiled, turning to kiss his knuckles.

Credence pulled Graves up from between his legs, fingers stroking the fabric of his waistcoat. It really was a pretty design, and he wondered how mad Queenie would be that they'd broken the buttons after one night. Credence didn't care that much, though, and he let go of the fabric as Graves began unbuttoning it fully, sliding the waistcoat, then the shirt, and then the rest of his clothes off. They joined the heap of Credence's clothes, creases and wrinkles be damned. There were plenty of good spells for that sort of thing.

As Graves stood to shuck his pants off, Credence took the opportunity to slide under the covers. He'd shower before he slept, but he wasn't ready to lose Graves just yet. He wanted to be held by him, and Graves was quick to join him in bed, pulling Credence against his chest. The glasses were still on, resting on the bridge of his nose now, and Credence smiled. Perhaps he'd just stay here tonight and give the shower a miss. Graves had cleaned him up nicely, anyway.

"You've grown attached," he said, shifting until he was rolled onto his stomach, resting entirely on Graves and looking at him. "Is this your way of secretly saying you do actually need glasses from now on?"

Graves gave a soft smile, taking the glasses off with one hand, removing the other from where it had been resting on Credence's shoulder to slide the glasses on him. After he was done, his hand slid into Credence's hair, stroking softly.

"It's just clear glass," Credence said, peering out of the lenses. There was a slight twinge of disappointment in him at the revelation, and he let out a sigh as Graves kissed his forehead.

"We'll keep them around," Graves promised, and Credence could hear the tiredness in his voice. He shifted until he was beside Graves, and Graves frowned at him.

"You didn't have to move," he said, and Credence pressed a kiss to his bare shoulder. Graves mumbled something else, the words little more than a low murmur, and he rolled until he was curled around Credence, their limbs entangled.

"I want to show you off at work on Monday," Graves said against Credence's forehead.

"I'll take over Queenie's coffee round for your offices," Credence promised, smiling as Graves squeezed his hand, linking their fingers. Credence pressed closer too, chest light and warm, the scent of sweat and musk filling his nostrils as his nose burrowed against Graves' jaw.

"Perhaps Queenie can supply us with matching ties," Graves said softly, and Credence could recognise the signs of sleep in his tone and from the way the strokes of his fingers against the back of Credence's palm slowed.

"Sweet dreams," Credence said, kissing the underside of Graves' jaw as he closed his eyes, mumbling the spell to dim the lights.

Darkness settled around them, and Credence had never been happier.

.


End file.
